


Porto Ruby

by captchaluff



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Pre-Canon, Self-Hatred, Touch-Starved, Underage Drinking, me? being nice to evan??? i don't know her, not quite kleinsen but almost, you can pry jewish bisexual evan out of my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 09:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13498996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captchaluff/pseuds/captchaluff
Summary: Evan and Jared get drunk, hug it out, and almost learn how to break each other's walls. Not necessarily in that order.





	Porto Ruby

**Author's Note:**

> if it's unclear, this is set when the boys are in 8th grade, so they're 13-14. I personally don't condone underage drinking, but kids do it anyways, regardless of what I think.
> 
> tw for underage drinking, mentions of abuse, and a very very brief suicide mention.

Jared opens the door with an exaggerated flourish. “Mi casa es su casa, or whatever,” He says unenthusiastically.

Evan tiptoes in, careful to remove his shoes and put them at their exact spot next to the front door. They do this once a week or so, now. Evan always puts his shoes in the same place, and Jared always makes sure his mom’s around to see them work on homework together in silence.

Jared slams the door shut and goes to yell at his mom to order some food. For a second, Evan is left to play with the hem of his shirt in the entryway, but then he gets a glass of water and sits patiently on the couch in the living room. He’s already sweating.

Jared comes back into view with a note from his mom in his hands. “Apparently,” he says, “Mom’s working late. So that blows.”

Evan feels guilty at how relieved that makes him; Mrs. Kleinman is nice, but she smells like smoke and she always asks Evan a lot of questions he never knows the answer to. Last week she asked if the kids at school were nice, and Evan didn’t have the heart to tell her that her son is the only person at school who doesn’t actively ignore him or trip him in the hallways.

“Do you- I mean-“ Evan stares at the floor and fiddles with his hands. The couch feels too small for his giant body. “Do you want me to- leave? I can leave. I don’t mind if you want me to leave.”

Jared laughs at him. His new braces glint off the ceiling light- on anyone else they would look dorky, but on Jared they make his teeth look sharp and dangerous. Like a shark. Like a predator.

“Holy shit, you look so fucking pathetic. I’m not gonna kick you out just because my mom’s not around.”

Jared walks over to stand right in front of Evan now. In his peripheral vision Evan can see a hand reach for his fidgeting fingers like a question, and Evan is shaking because what if he- what if-

The hand settles on his upper arm, warm and firm and far too gentle, pulling Evan’s useless flimsy body up with only enough strength that if Evan resisted in the slightest, he’d flop right back where he started. Maybe it’s a good thing then that Evan can’t bring himself to move, still processing that he’s being touched. He barely even gets to hug his mom anymore.

Evan misses his dad.

He barely remembers anything about him, but part of him wishes he had a dad that loved him and taught him baseball and gave him a hug every day. Maybe that way he wouldn’t start crying the second someone touches him, which, _oh_. That’s happening now.

“Okay, uh, wow dude. Are you okay?” Jared almost sounds concerned. “Nevermind, dumb question. Just, uh, tell me if this is weird, or whatever.”

The hand on Evan’s arm moves up to his shoulder and Jared pulls him into an awkward sweaty hug. Evan is trying to stop crying, but it’s hard when there’s a hand on his shoulder and another curling around his back and there’s a warm solid body pressed against him and it’s so nice, it’s warm and safe and _right_ and Evan wants to reciprocate but he doesn’t want to get any snot on Jared’s shirt so he’s just kind of hovering his hands in the air-

“Like this, dumbass.” And Jared is shifting his hands, shoving Evan’s head into the crook of his neck like he’s teaching Evan how to hug.

Evan doesn’t even know why he’s crying now. It feels nice.

 

It feels like years and only seconds have passed when Jared pulls away. Evan’s whole body is tingling, he’s never felt so safe.

“Okay, first of all,” Jared turns around, but even facing his back Evan can still hear the goofy grin in his voice, “As far as I’m concerned, that never happened. Ten minutes of my life lost to history. I suddenly have amnesia.”

“Second of all, since she's not here, we’re going to raid my mom’s liquor cabinet.”

Evan never pegged himself as the delinquent type, but at this point he would jump off a bridge if Jared asked him to.

Turns out the liquor cabinet doesn’t even have a lock on it. Every bottle has a fancy foreign name under a thick coat of dust- likely untouched for years. Jared looks over each one with an inquisitive eye.

“Yep,” he says, “I have no idea what any of these are.” He pulls out a random bottle and surfs through the kitchen drawers for a bottle opener.

The label reads “ _Porto Ruby_ ”. Evan has no idea what that means.

After a lot of twisting and cussing, Jared gets the cork off and takes a swig. “How does it- how does it taste?” Evan asks with wide eyes as his hands fidget nervously.

“Honestly? Kinda fruity.” Jared wipes his mouth and passes the bottle to Evan, who should probably feel worse about breaking the law, but for once he takes a leap without thinking and brings the bottle to his lips.

It’s sweet. Sweet and a little tangy, like grapes, and not at all like the champagne his mom let him sip on at his bar mitzvah. He doesn’t let it sit on his tongue like his mom does, he just gulps.

“It’s not-“he squeaks, “N-not bad?”

“Hell yeah it’s not. Gimme,” Jared grabs the bottle, “Wanna skip homework and play Halo?”

Evan nods and the two of them head to Jared’s room. They keep going like that for a while, passing the bottle back and forth in between shooting aliens together, though Jared drinks more often than Evan does. Evan doesn’t even realize the buzz he’s gotten until Jared suddenly pauses the game.

“Holy shit,” he says, “Am I drunk?”

Evan doesn’t know what it’s like to feel drunk, but his head does feel light. Reality feels so far away and so, so real all at once. Like he could do anything he wanted, which means he’ll probably scream or murder someone or kill himself. “I don’t want to be drunk,” Evan decides out loud.

“Shit, I shouldn’t have made you drink. Fuck. I’m sorry, man,” Jared flops over, his head landing on Evan’s shoulder. “Fuck, I’m a horrible friend.”

It’s probably the alcohol that makes Evan run his fingers through his friend’s hair. “No, you’re not,” he says. It feels like the right thing to say until he realizes Jared is crying.

“Yes I am, you hate me,” Jared sniffles, “I don’t blame you. I hate me too.”

“I d-don’t hate you,” Evan says.

“No, I fucked it up. My only friend and I fucked it up and now you hate me.”

Evan keeps petting Jared in what he hopes is a comforting way. “I really don’t. Y-you’re, like- the nicest guy I know.”

Jared snorts. “That’s not saying much.”

“But it’s- it’s true!” Evan stops rubbing his hair and turns to face him, “You don’t- you haven’t shoved my head in a toilet even once! And you t-t-talk? To me? And you’re, you’re the only person who does. I know you’re only f-friends with me because of our moms, but it’s- hanging out and stuff, it makes me feel- happy. Like, uh, like friends. Sorry.”

Jared’s silent for a moment. “You know,” he says after a long pause, “you’re, like, my only friend. I figured I should tell you since we’re sharing our feelings and telling secrets and-“ he takes a sip of the wine- “and all that jazz.”

He practically shoves the bottle in Evan’s lap. “Now your turn. You tell a secret.”

“Oh, uh- sure?” Well this is a thing that they’re doing. Evan wracks his brain. What’s a normal thing to say in this situation? Crushes, right? But Jared already knows about Zoe, so that only leaves one option.

“Um, I guess- there’s this guy in my US History class, Noah? A-and I think I, um- you know. Like him.”

“Oh,” Jared says. “Wait, what about Zoe?”

“I still- I like her too. So I’m not, uh, gay? I don’t really know, though. Maybe.”

“Huh. Is he hot?”

“U-um, I guess?”

“Nice. I guess it’s my turn then.”

Jared grabs the bottle, but instead of drinking from it he just spins it in his hands while he talks. “So uh. I jerk off to gay porn sometimes. I don’t know if that makes me gay or. I don’t fucking know, your turn.”

That catches Evan off guard. He doesn’t really know how to react, but he’s suddenly very aware of the fact that he and Jared have technically indirectly kissed at least a dozen times by now. Evan’s not sure how to feel about that.

“Come onnnnnn,” Jared whines.

“I’m thinking!” Evan says a little louder than he intended. His ears feel clogged.

The thing is, does he have any real secrets left? It’s not like he tells Jared everything, but between Jared and his mom and his therapist, Evan’s been careful about not bottling things up. Dr. Harris keeps telling him not to do that.

Well, there’s the therapy itself. But he probably shouldn’t talk about it.

“My mom told me that-” he doesn’t want to talk about it why is he talking about it, “And we went to therapy because- she said that- that my dad used to hit me. And her. Both of us. But I don’t- remember? I don’t remember my dad much. But she wouldn’t lie about- about something like that, right? I’m sorry, I don’t- you shouldn’t have to- I shouldn’t have said that. Forget I said that.”

Evan puts his head in his hands to hide the hot spark of shame that spreads through him. Idiot, why did you tell him? Now he’s going to think you’re weird for oversharing and he’ll kick you out and you’ll have to call your mom and tell her that you’re drunk and you’ll be grounded for life probably-

Jared cuts through his anxiety with a soft “Damn, Hansen. I don’t think I can top that.”

Evan feels Jared’s weight on his shoulder disappear, and the room is instantly colder. “Heh,” he hears Jared say from a little further away than before. “That’s what she said. Or he said, I guess.”

When Evan finally pries his sweaty hands from his face, Jared is laying on the floor right in front of him, hand propped to rest his head on, giving this unbearably fond and affectionate look.

“Hey, Evan,” he says, fiddling with his bangs, which Evan has never once seen him do, “Do you ever wish there was someone to, like, help you figure this stuff out? Like, if you could kiss a guy just once, just so you could know for sure.”

Jared’s face has gone almost entirely red, but he doesn’t break eye contact with Evan. It feels like a challenge, and Evan hates confrontation.

“Not- not really,” he mumbles, avoiding Jared’s intense stare like it could set him on fire.

Jared freezes. “Me neither,” he mutters, and finally looks away.

 

When Evan says goodbye to Jared though the open doorway, Jared smiles, but it’s all teeth and no emotion. His braces glint off the porch light. They’re shiny and opaque, and Evan kind of wants to ask if he can move closer to see if his reflection will look back.

“Next week?” he asks instead.

“Yeah, sure,” Jared replies. There’s none of that drunk, affectionate, vulnerable boy in his gaze anymore.

The door closes, and Evan walks home.

**Author's Note:**

> jared "time to drink this vodka down the hatch" kleinman is, how you say.... PINE-ing (also i just love imagining will roland with braces for some reason)  
> I've never drunk alcohol in my entire life so this is probably inaccurate rip i just know that port wine is supposed to be sweet and good for beginners  
> don't drink, kids. stay in school. do your homework. be emotionally vulnerable.


End file.
